Moondance
by pinkpower
Summary: No plot. Just romance and angst. You can look at it as something prior to Twilight. Aerith/Edward oneshot


**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**

_Well, it's a marvelous night for a moon dance_

_With the stars up above in your eyes_

_A fantabulous night to make romance_

'_Neath the cover of October skies_

Her bewitching scent reminds him of the one thing he's been deprived of for so long, for fear of someone seeing the revolting glimmer of his stone-cold flesh. It has been so long since he has gone out to just enjoy the warmth upon his skin, and just breathe in that liberating feeling of pretending to be wrapped in a blanket. He begrudgingly remembers the scent so well, and the fact that she smells exactly like it made him want to cry moist tears, if he could.

She smelled like the sun.

Whilst they sit on top of a hill on Midgar, Edward stares at Aerith's porcelain doll complexion in the light of the moon, and knows that someone so beautiful—even more beautiful than the strigoi—is not possible. Perhaps, he contemplates that it's the Ancient blood circulating through her veins that makes her so much more special than the rest of the pitiful human race.

Aerith, who has been focusing all her attention on the moon, turns to look at Edward from her seat next to him on the grass.

"Edward," she begins, and he can't help but like the way she says his name—with such sweetness and wonder, "would you like to dance?"

"Pardon?" The vampire questions, bemused by this strange inquiry.

"Would you like to dance?" Aerith repeats, not the least bit exasperated.

Edward raises a confused eyebrow. Hear heard nothing but crickets chirping and the wind blowing.

"There's a distinct lack of music, Aerith," Edward replies. Even his enhanced hearing could not find the musical notes of Mother Nature's theme song.

"We'll let the moon be our song," Aerith says with a shrug.

Both Edward and Aerith get up from their spots, and she dusts of her pink dress. Edward takes Aerith into his arms, deeply intrigued with her thoughts. She can hear the music being played by the breezes, all the crescendos and decrescendos of the world around them. Through her mind alone, Edward could hear it as well. However, Aerith then begins to hum along with the song of nature's lullaby.

He is amazed . . .

By her endless flow of warm thoughts, her sweet nature, and how he doesn't feel like a demon who lusts for blood. And Edward swears that his heart beats after being frozen for decades. He knows that he does not deserve Aerith, a woman with the purest, kindest thoughts of anybody he's ever met, for he is a monster and nothing less.

Surely, she is proof that Heaven exists. But he . . .

He would never have an afterlife. Therefore, Edward could not be with Aerith.

* * *

Edward cannot look into Aerith's watery emerald irises, afraid that he might not be able to let her go.

"B-but I love you," Aerith stammers, trying to reason with him.

There is something in his chest that aches, and Edward doesn't know what to make of it. His heart is undead, how can it break?

"And I thought you felt the same way about me," she goes on, tears sliding like a vast river down her face.

"I do," he replies quickly, regrettably staring up at her.

"Then, why are you doing this? Why do you want to break up?" Aerith questions pleadingly.

"You're not the one for me, Aerith. We're too different," he explains, running a hand through his bronze hair. "I won't allow myself to pretend anymore that this can work out." Edward reaches out of hand, gently pressing the tips of his fingers against her smooth cheek. "That won't change the fact that I love you, and I always will."

Aerith shakes her head, and her eyes can no longer bear to look at his cold, expressionless face. She shoves away his hand, though all she wanted to do was bring Edward closer.

"But still, you're just letting me go. Fine," the brunette chokes on her words, accepting that Edward's decision is final; there is no changing his mind. "If that is what you want—if I'm what you don't want—then don't worry. I'll stay out of your way. See you around, I guess."

With that, Aerith turns around and runs down the hall, unable to control her beautiful tears. The bizarre thing is that she doesn't find it within herself to resent him, but blames herself. Aerith is never the type to put someone at extreme fault, but her own self. Edward knows that she's too good for him

Edward simply stands there alone in a crowd of people moving pass him, and he's never felt more alone. He finally shakes his head, continuing with the rest of the day as he walks to his next class.

There is nothing left to do.

* * *

"**Moondance," by Van Morrison. **

**I'm SORRY it's so short!**


End file.
